From the heart of Jerusalem: Finding the comfort zone

I’m writing this article sitting in my lovely leather desk chair, sipping and savoring my home-brewed latte in a ceramic mug topped with whipped cream. This morning I went for a light jog on the treadmill while watching a movie, took a steamy shower, and then made myself a large omelet with sautéed vegetables with a side of whole-wheat toast and butter. It’s good to be back home.

After half a year in Yeshiva in Jerusalem, these home luxuries were at the very top of my wish list, so my heart raced with excitement as I stepped off the plane to spend Pesach break back home.

While being home is a lot of fun, sitting in one place and working on an article is even more difficult when you’re surrounded by videogames, more movies than you can count, a refrigerator full of delicious food, and a car that can take you anywhere. But returning home represents an even greater challenge. All of the time in Israel learning and growing leads up to the first moment you step off the plane in America. Will you be wearing a kippah? Will you pick up a non-kosher donut for a snack on your way through the terminal? A lot of questions fall on you at once. It’s overwhelming.

Here’s what I wrote in my journal the second day back home:

You know what my problem with visiting America is? I spent this whole year living in a world of Torah. A life of Torah clearly becomes beautiful and meaningful. It therefore followed in my mind that the non-religious life is hollow and lacking. But the problem is, upon returning home, I look around and realize that secular life really is not so bad. In fact, life here seems very good. So Judaism is wonderful but is it really worth it when a secular alternative is wonderful too?

As I look back at this journal entry, I can see why I reacted that way. So far my life had been two totally separate compartments. One had been the life of reluctant religiosity dampened by questions I was unprepared to face. Then came the other life, my year in the Old City of Jerusalem where I hardly encountered secular company at all. In this setting, I could come close to maintaining a constant halachic and Jewish consciousness. When I returned home, I saw around me all the symbols of my former life and felt their unique comforts. I concluded that to partake of these relics of my former life meant to lapse into that life altogether and abandon all I had gained in Israel. And that’s where I was so terribly wrong.

I had thought that the goal of the Yeshiva year is to eventually go home but keep living “in Yeshiva.” That’s not the goal at all. The goal is to go home and integrate the lens of Jewish wisdom into everyday secular activities. I am supposed to mix the religious and secular components of my life without negating either. The meaningful secular life doesn't have to compromise the meaningful Jewish life or vice versa. It's just a matter of integrating and harmonizing the two. And although this is not a simple task, this is the life-challenge of the modern observant Jew.